Saint and Sinner
by sean.auyong
Summary: One is a student who had to work hard to get to this point, the other is a soldier who is exhausted. She stands for the best in them all while he lurks and inspires fear. Man and Woman. Student and Soldier. Saint and Sinner. (My First time writing a romance fic and for Fate, please be understanding with the criticisms. Enjoy!)
1. Chapter 1

I still remember the day we met, it was the worst day of my life in secondary school but meeting you made everything better.

It was a Monday morning, the very first day of my first year in university. I was partying the previous night to celebrate my last night of freedom before entering the glorious institution known as the National University of Singapore (NUS).

Blaring music. Dimly lighted environment with spotlights of various colors flashing and constantly moving gave the club a very vivacious feel. Most of the university girls came in with a dark colored tank tops with skinny jeans and they were all dancing wildly with their hips thrusting to the sides and them caressing their body. Most of the ladies who were working already either came in their office wear or in attire similar to the university girls, these ladies sat in a corner with their drinks and watched the rest of the crowd, one lady I remembered was... A young Eurasian lady in a black sundress that was strapless on the left side. She had shoulder length black hair with brown highlights, her eyes were sapphire blue and skin porcelain white. She does look rather demure but as my sergeant major always tells me, "Watch out for the reserved or shy types, they're a monster when it comes to sex".

This wisdom was proven once again this night.

After that romp, I remember drinking but what exactly? There were many drinks up for sale ranging from bitter tasting vodka to the sweet tasting Jack and Coke mix all the way to the liver wrenching feel of an all you can drink mystery shot. Whatever I drank was probably some powerful shit because I woke up in the club's toilet at 0600, hands slung over the toilet bowl wearing only my dirty blue jacket and my red chinos. I couldn't remember what I had for the day so I did the most natural thing to do. I went back to sleep. I was awakened by the sound of my phone alarm, I looked at it.

Shit.

1130\. I had exactly 1 hour to get from the club to NUS for my orientation program. I stumbled out of the toilet and made my way to the exit, without a second thought I kicked down the locked door and left the building. Sure, I set off an alarm but I ran off before anyone reached the scene.

Getting to the university was easy enough; board a taxi, get sent to my destination; left behind my commanding officer's number so that the taxi driver knew who to charge the bill to.

From the taxi stand I ran, I brushed past several freshies just as late as me minus the sense of urgency. I pushed aside several buff guys who were all larger than me and probably earned a few "fuck you lah!" in the process. But what I'll always remember is the moment I knocked into you.

I reached the corridor where the lecture hall was located. Just 50m to go, I'd run longer distances before while carrying my combat load, this was going to be a piece of cake. With all my strength, I dashed for the last door on the left but before I could reach, you came out from the 2nd door.

"Damnit!"  
"Gan ni na! _(Mother Fucker!)_ "

Papers everywhere, your bag on the ground and both of our butts on the floor. "Sorry sorry sorry" I apologized profusely, I was a in a rush but I couldn't just run off after knocking into someone. As fast as I fell down, I got up and started gathering all the papers and arranged them to be passed to you.

"I'm so sorry miss?"

"It's Jeanne, not miss Jeanne. And could you not run in a corridor next time. Someone could have gotten hurt!"

Short blonde hair, white sleeveless blouse, black skirt. Purple eyes. Those slim, slender legs. Those delicious pink lips.

"Why are you in such a rush, mister?"

Your voice, it was low enough for you to sound regal but your pitch also made you sound tenderly and loving..

If I didn't believe in angels back then. I sure did now.


	2. Chapter 2

Of my 21 years of life I have never met a guy like you. Granted a lot of the men I've met have often gave me a bad first impression and you were no different. Knocking into me, reeking of cigarette smoke and beer. Dressed like a hobo. If you hadn't introduced yourself as a student of the school, I would have... Let's not talk about what I would have done.

The point is you're different from most guys I've met, well mostly different. What was that Singaporean phrase you taught me...? Same Same but different? That's how I would describe you. Like most guys I know, you dress really sloppily. You're always either in some dirty polo tee with jeans and worn-out boots or in a singlet, fbt shorts and slippers. The only times when you do dress properly are when we have project presentations and I have to force you to buy new shirts and pants to wear.

"Come on Jeanne, I don't need another set of formal wear, I have..."

"You have 3 sets of formal wear that are either stained or have large gaping holes that I don't know how you got, so yeah we're going clothes shopping" how on earth you ruin your clothes I'll never know. Aren't military guys supposed to know how to keep their own personal bearings? I ruffled through the selection of long sleeved shirts, looking for a piece that would suit you.

Dark blue Chequered shirt? No. You don't buy this kind of design from a brand like Zara. Hmm, maroon top and brown pants? Excellent! Taking both pieces from the display I handed them over to you. Expectantly waiting for you to agree with my choice, after all you always say the sexiest part of your uniform is the maroon beret.

"The maroon represents our blood, the blood that we will spill for our country. What's more in the jungle when we wear the beret we're easier to spot and we're basically daring the enemy to engage us"

You saw what I chose and smiled as you took both pieces from me. Mouth curled up slightly, a soft laugh. A sigh. You looked me in the eyes. Were those tears? I couldn't tell because you took the clothes to the cashier before I could check. You're really mysterious sometimes and I don't know how I put up with it. "So what do you do in the commandos?"

Eyes wide open, my body facing and leaning towards you; feet just continually tapping. Just anticipating to be blown off my feet by your stories.

I heard about the SQ 117 hijack from my dad. He said it demonstrated to the world the precision and efficiency of the Singapore Special Forces. Being brought up in a military family I learnt about not just the French armed forces but also about armed forces all around the world the Russian Spetsnaz, the Taiwanese Frogmen. My dad's associates both local and foreign were always so surprised that a girl would want to learn so much about militaries.

"Well I shoot guns, do PT... And stuff." you answered, almost inaudibly as you mumbled under your breathe. Frowning, I slapped your shoulder hard "Come on, can't you be more specific? Share a story about one of the missions you did! Any mission! It doesn't even have to be real ops." Frowning, I folded my arms and turned away from you. This worked with against most men, my dad included. No reason it wouldn't work against you.

You stared at me with your eyebrows raised before looking away from me. You covered your mouth and started coughing but we both knew you were laughing. I stood up and stamped my foot. Fists clenched and to my sides. "Stop laughing at me and tell me about your experiences in the commandos!"

Seeing as there was no point in pretending that you were not laughing, you stopped covering your mouth and started to laugh... Really. Really. Loudly. I roundhouse kicked you once in the thigh and another in your ribs to shut you up.

"Aïe! Aïe! Je refuse de laisser la princesse boudeuse violente sait rien de ma vie de travail. _(_ _Ow! Ow! I refuse to let the violent pouting princess know anything about my work life.)_ " You declared as you moved out of my kicking range. "Je refuse de... Wait you speak French? "I asked, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed. Having completely forgotten my burning desire to attack you I walked towards you to hear it for myself.

And I'll always remember this.

When I was about one arm's length from you, you wrapped your hand around my waist and pulled me towards you. Your left hand on my right cheek. Hot breathe tingling my ear, you whispered "Vous voulez savoir ce que je peux faire? _(Want to know what else I can do?)_ " My face felt flushed, I could feel the sweat rolling down my face as I started to slowly gasp for air. My hands pressed against your chest, pushing you away from me just slightly. Damn, how did you get such a solid fucking chest? You don't even visit the gym or workout. All I've seen you do is eat, sleep and attend classes.

Hungry, I grabbed your clothes tightly.

…

…

…

And judo flipped you.

Then while you were on the ground, I started to pound you. The store assistant had to separate the both of us and we both ended up in the police station you with your CO and me with my dad. You are a fucked up person, but I've found that for every 5 bad things I say about you... I can say 6 good things about you.

You're horrible at maintaining your appearance but the one thing that you always maintain is your sense of justice. It doesn't matter who the wrong doer is, little girl, some John Doe in the streets or even the faculty dean! You don't care, you will set it all right. Arguing with a xenophobe to correct his attitude foreigners? Check. Stopping a little girl in the park to get her to throw away the litter. Been there and done that. The one event that convinced me of your dedication to justice is that time at the hospital. One of our friends, Chun Seng, got hit by a speeding bicycle while he was jogging in East Coast Park. He had a tire marks imprinted on his right knee and a really disgusting laceration on both of his palms, he was in the Accident and Emergencies ward of Changi General Hospital. We were waiting there for probably about an hour or so to see him after his operation, I was on the verge of snoozing off but you woke me up by ruffling my already messy hair.

"Don't fall asleep. I'll get you some coffee okay? Kopi or Kopi O? _(Coffee with milk or without?)_ " You asked politely. I growled in reply, head turned away from you and focused on the clock. Two fucking AM, seriously I should be asleep right now. Why on earth did we have to wait for Chun Seng? He's twenty two! And it's his problem he got hit by that bike, we didn't have to come here but you insisted saying his family wasn't in and it was our responsibility as friends to look after him. Five minutes, ten minutes, fift… Fuck the coffee, I wrapped my hands around myself and rested my head on my lap. Almost about to fall asleep until I heard a scream.

"SOMEONE STOP HIM!"

"KAN NI NA (Mother Fucker)! I tell you everything already, YOU STILL WANT WHAT!?" the voice groaned. It sounded choked. It was not you, the voice was too deep and rough. Singaporeans tend to sound a bit rougher on account of them speaking in sentences that are a mix of English, Mandarin, Malay and sometimes Tamil. You sound more refined than the average Singaporean because your grammar is better than most Singaporeans I've met and you don't butcher your sentences with different languages.

"HUarrrgh! Please… PLEASE STOP BEATING ME!" I followed the sound of the pleading and I found you standing by the side of a middle-aged Chinese man lying on the ground. He had fresh bruises on his upper lip, nose twisted to the left and a FORK stabbed into his right thigh. The blood and mucus leaking from his nose mixed to form a crimson brown paste that smeared his face. Everyone in that area huddled to the sides of the room, parents shielded their children from seeing such a brutal sight. The paramedics were trying to inch towards the fallen man but one glimpse at you and they froze, blood dripping from your knuckles, a scar that slanted down from the side of your right eye to your cheek. Even the security guard there was trembling even as he trained his revolver at you but from the looks of it I don't think the gun was even loaded and cocked at all…

I walked towards you and put my hand on your shoulder. Pulling you to face me, eye to eye. "Ce que l'enfer est arrive? _(What the hell happened?)_ " Speaking loud enough only for the both of us to hear. I learnt that while you were getting the both of us coffee you met this little boy whose arm was in an elbow sling, you tried to make him happier by giving him a candy cane. His dad told you his boy's been like this for the entire day after he fell and fractured his right hand; according to you the boy looked like he was hiding something.

After spending some time nosing around, you came to the fantastic conclusion that he was a drunk that beat up his family regularly and you took it upon yourself to beat the shit out of the father and get him to confess to abusing his family. Before I could ask about anything else, the sound of sirens flooded the air and the boys in blue entered the scene. With their guns trained on the both of us, we were told to stand down and surrender ourselves. My 2nd time with you in a police station, not exactly my idea of spending time with a friend.

Your evidence for this incredible conclusion was

A) The kid wasn't responding to any of your questions on how he hurt himself. And the dad was getting agitated by your constant questioning, insisting that you "Mind your own business". Not telling you the exact circumstances that led to the fracture

B) The injury supposedly happened like a few hours ago but the bandage used to cover his hand didn't look bloody at all.

C) You asked one of your friends to run a background check on the man. And you found out that multiple Personal Protection Orders (PPO) have been filed against him before, by his wife. And they were all rescinded after an average of 2-3 weeks.

Your conclusion was confirmed by the investigators at the police station after their own investigation. I'm not surprised by the accuracy of your investigation because I've seen people achieve much more with even lesser resources than you. What I wasn't expecting was the rationale for your decision to publicly destroy the dad and get the both of us arrested in the progress. _"Unless we force the police to make an investigation, the kid and his mother aren't going to make a report. Getting arrested is nothing compared to letting the kid continue living like this."_ I know that for Singapore and other Asian countries family violence is something that's swept under the carpet because of the shame that's associated, _if the perpetrator is arrested_.

You're a fashion disaster, there's no denying that. You like to make people think you are mysterious and you annoy the hell out of me with your perverted antics. But I can see that you really do care not just for your friends but even for random strangers. You would go out of your way to help others even if it inconveniences you.

As you once told me "As long as I can give just one person a reason to smile and believe in a better tomorrow. I am happy."

I guess... I guess that's why I said yes.


	3. Bonus Chapter

**Bonus Chapter**

 _Zhane lay down belly flat on the ground, just watching…. Waiting… It had been 48 hours since his 7 man section was inserted into hostile territory and just 12 hours ago they reached the cross junction where they were to assault the convoy._

 _About 300m to his right and taking cover behind a tree was LTA David, his SAR 21 covering the right axis of the junction. At right side of the Lieutenant was 1SG Darren Devaraj whose Section Automatic Weapon was covering where the Red Convoy was expected to enter from. The 2 men were from Green Coy, the Company which specialized in conventional warfare. These guys could fight harder, run faster and last longer than anyone from the unit when it came to fighting from Land, Sea or Air. 1SG Devaraj was especially well known amongst the 4 Wings as the guy who lasted the longest for the Endless March, having marched 150km with a 30kg load. He still had the cheek to declare that he could do another 150km and still make it in time to enjoy the night at Altimate._

 _Covering the left axis was LTA Brandon Lim, and he was accompanied by 3SG "NFG" Muhammad Razin. Both men were from Knight Coy, or the go-to coy for when you needed to rescue hostages or civilians from the bad guys. It was an unspoken rule in Knight Coy, but to be part of the "Knighthood" you couldn't have any criminal records, no tattoos, no drinking or smoking and a whole fucking list of rules to live by. But he had seen these guys in action before, especially the "NFG". The young 3SG was snatched by Knight Coy's Officer Commanding (OC) not just because of his extroverted, friendly, out-going demeanour. But also because the "NFG" beat the OC in a knife fight simply by smiling at him and going for ONE killing blow, 5 FUCKING TIMES._

 _Zhane himself was covering the centre axis, and with him were his batch-boys, CPT Lim and SSG Wong. They were from Phantom Coy, the coy in-charge of getting their hands so dirty that not even bleach could wash the shit stain off. Bombings, Assassinations, kidnappings, torture (and other dirty laundry tasks) were the bread and butter of Phantoms. He remembered when he was still a newbie within Phantom Coy, they were on a mission to capture a High Value Target in the Sulu Archipelago. The vines, thick trees and shrubbery of the Filipino rainforests provided excellent cover and concealment for his detachment, but they were spotted by village children about 3km from the capture site._

 _The rest is history…._

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS YOU FUCK!" there was a sickeningly delicious crack as Zhane smashed the wrench directly on his captive's knee. The man's muffled scream was rough and almost animalistic because of the gag that was placed inside his mouth. His arms were tied behind his back and his legs to the chair, his wrists were already bleeding red due to the chafing of the rope that bound him. His legs weren't any better, most of his toes were bent out of shape and rusty nails were driven into both of his feet. Dropping the wrench, Zhane took the gag and yanked it out of the man's mouth before slamming his fist into his prisoner's stomach.

A gush of air was forced out of the prisoner's mouth and along with it came a splatter of blood which landed directly on the Shadow's shirt. He looked to the ground to avoid his interrogator's gaze but it was to no avail as the Shadow gripped him by his chin and forced him to make eye contact. "In Hilton… suite…. Take the key card in my chest pocket… But you won't be able to get to her…" He was cut off by a P226 that was forced into his mouth.

He was thankful

" _One-Niner, this is 2 Sierra. Hotel Victor Tango (High Value Target) has been spotted along my axis." LTA Brandon's information was correct, soon enough Zhane saw the convoy approaching. 2 trucks loaded with about 6 guys each. All were armed with AK-47s, and they weren't wearing any body armour at all. Probably had some holy book stuffed somewhere to substitute for proper protection? Not that it mattered._

" _Where's your god now?" Zhane whispered to himself as he slowly pulled out the detonator from his pocket. Licking his lips expectantly, the taste of the camouflage cream only made this experience more titillating._

 _3… 2… 1._

They knew he was coming for them. Hell, the only reason that was happening was because he WANTED them to know. Slitting the throat of one of Jasper's lackeys in the hotel lobby and firing off a few 9mm rounds into another lackey sent a clear enough message to Jasper. _The Shadow was coming for him. And he'd better start praying._

The doors to the elevator opened and as they did, 2 thugs carrying AK-47s emptied their entire magazine into the lift. And it was only after a 3 second spray that they realised they had been firing into an elevator which had one dead body inside. "Ehh, go check the body leh. See if he's the guy we're supposed to kill." One of the thugs motioned to the other with his rifle, eyes still trained on the dead body. "Lampah la, cannot be one." The other thug replied as he went down to the body. With one knee on the ground and his rifle on the floor, he flipped over the body so that he could see the person's face. The last thing he felt was shrapnel flying into his face and of his cock and balls exploding into a blood-strewn paste.

"HRAGGGHAHGHH!" screamed the other thug as he crumpled helplessly to the floor clutching his right hip. His buddy in front took the full brunt of the IED (improvised explosive device), but one piece of shrapnel shattered his hip bone. And he could see the bone sticking out of his waist, bone shards embedded into his wrist and the blood…. All that blood… Just oozing and squirting its way out of his wound… "SIAO EHHH! SOMEONE! SAVE MEEEE! I DUNWAN DI…" A hand covered the helpless man's mouth and a something sharp was shoved from under his chin and it stabbed through his tongue. He could feel the blood going down his throat and into his lungs, the sharp object then slid out of his throat and went straight into his right temple. He fell down onto the ground head first.

The darkness took the pain away.

 _The ball bearings from the claymore mine whizzed into the 2 trucks, those who were outside the truck died instantly. The ones closest to the claymore mine had most of their fingers (and some parts of their face) blown off. Those who were on the further side of the truck had most of their extremities intact but they had holes all over their body and blood was pouring out generously from those wounds._

 _The only few that survived were those who were inside the truck, the metal of the truck door had absorbed most of the impact and miraculously the ball bearings did not hit the glass window. But the fortune was ill-lived. At the top of his lungs, Zhane shouted out "SECTION! LAST BURST OF WHISKY!" with that the rest of his team unleashed a hailstorm of bullets at the enemy truck. The blaze of gunfire, the oily metallic smell of the carbon, the gasps and the screams. It was exhilarating, to have so much power at your fingertips. Snuffing out a life like it meant nothing to you…_

 _He smiled and let out a small chuckle as he saw his bullet splatter the front passenger's brains on his driver. The look of pure terror on the driver's face, the mumbling of those last prayers. He was good at what he did. He enjoyed instilling fear into the hearts of his enemies._

 _And he wasn't ashamed of it._

He approached the door of the presidential suite. Taking out his hand phone he attached a USB cable to it. At the other end of the USB cable was a miniature scope, which he slid under the door of the suite. Activating his phone's camera function, he saw the interior of the room. He saw the bed right in front but no sight of any hostiles, more importantly SHE wasn't in sight… Wait. What?

Why was the black sleeveless blouse he bought for her lying at the rim of the bed…? He'd recognise it anywhere, the ribbon around the neck, the shiny buttons that were made from… Was that the white skirt he got for her? Throwing away his phone and cable, he pulled out his pistol and placed the card in the keyhole. The green light of the door flashed.

Forcing the door open, he ran towards the bed without hesitation. Finger calmly resting on the trigger. It couldn't… It shouldn't.


End file.
